7

Respite in Jericho

AFTER A FEW HOURS’ REST, Levi found himself sitting in front of a breakfast of warm bread, goats’ milk, and some dried dates. Zaccheus’s wife, Ruth, was still spry enough to serve as hostess. As Levi’s hunger began to be satiated, he could think more clearly about the events that had driven him to Zacchaeus and Ruth.

“I imagine you have heard all about the disaster in Jerusalem by now,” he said.

Ruth shook her head in sorrow. “People have been talking of nothing else for the last two days. Refugees have streamed into town. The city officials have exhausted their charitable resources already!” Levi nodded, unsurprised.

Ruth’s countenance brightened. “But you will never guess who is just down the road in the Jericho Inn—Miryam, Martha, and Joanna! We have invited them to come join us for a midday meal after they have recovered from their traveling.”

The conversation carried on for a while, but Levi was still so tired that he was not his usual loquacious self. When he sat back on his mat after eating, the next thing Ruth heard from him was a little snore as he dozed off.

When midday arrived, there was a knock on the door, startling Levi out of his rest. He sat up straight, rubbing his eyes, and saw Zacchaeus ushering Joanna, Miryam, and Martha into the house.

Levi stood up quickly to properly welcome the ladies. After standard greetings were exchanged and they all sat down, he asked Joanna, who was nearest to him, “How did you come to be here in Jericho? Rumor had it that you and your husband had gone all the way to Roma for Paul. When did you return to Judea?”

Joanna smiled as Ruth handed her a bowl and said, “We did indeed go to Roma. We were coworkers of Paul for a long time—we even landed in a jail with him once.”

“What, a Jewish woman in a Roman jail cell? Really?” said Levi.

“Yes, it’s amazing what trouble a woman can get into! I found opportunities to bear witness to the Master among women of means in Ephesos, Philippi, and Thessalonike.” The light in her eyes dimmed briefly. “In Thessalonike some of those new followers of Jesus even lost their lives when persecution arose.”1

Suddenly the light dawned on Zaccheus’s wife: “Wait a minute. Are you the Joanna who traveled with the Master? I’ve heard that you later married a man named Andronicus and . . . you became an apostle?”

Joanna swallowed the bite she had taken and blushed. “Yes, I went by Junia when we were in Rome.2. . . Saying that I became an apostle, it sounds so grand. It really wasn’t. We were doing the Lord’s work as best we could. My husband was martyred in Rome during the crackdown by Nero a few years ago, and so I came to Jerusalem. Until only a few days ago I had been caring for my ailing sister. But she has gone to be with the Lord, so there is nothing for me in Jerusalem anymore—especially now.”

“I am sorry to hear of the loss of your sister,” said Levi, and Zacchaeus and Ruth murmured their condolences as well. As Joanna responded in turn, Levi reached into his worn leather bag. “You all may be interested to hear a certain passage from Paul’s letter to the Roman churches.”

Martha was so excited she could hardly speak. “You have a copy?! We read that scroll in our Jerusalem house assembly—that and John Mark’s account of the Master’s life!”

Levi smiled slyly and patted his bag, setting his bowl aside. “Here I have both of those very documents.” He cleared his throat. “Now, allow me the honor of reading to you.”

“Greet Andronicus and Junia, my fellow Jews who have been in prison with me. They are outstanding among the apostles, and they were in Christ before I was.” The room was silent as the meaning sank in.

“Joanna, were you among those Saul persecuted before he turned to the Lord?” asked Zacchaeus.

“Yes, we were,” replied Joanna. “We ended up working with Saul beginning with his second journey to share the good news about Jesus. As some of you know, I was among the women who first saw Jesus when he arose from the dead. Andronicus and I were married not long thereafter. So we had been followers of Jesus for some years prior to Jesus’ revelation to Saul on Damascus Road.”3

“The forgiveness of the Lord at work among his people, binding them together,” said Levi softly. “But where will you women go now?”

Martha quickly replied, “We have resolved to leave this promised land, at least for a time, while this war finishes . . . badly, as usual, for our people. We will journey on to Pella to join other followers of the Lord there, following the prophecy. And you?”

Levi looked up, stroked his chin beard and said, “I have decided to go back to Capernaum. I am sure there are still followers of Jesus there. I ask you to pray for me, as I have a job to do. I feel that I too must compile a story about Jesus, and I will use Mark’s work and a few other resources to compose the document. But while we are here tonight, I would love to hear from any of you about the teachings of the Master you have heard or recall.”

Oral Culture in Israel

The literacy rate in ancient biblical cultures seems to have ranged from about 5 to 20 percent, depending on the specific culture and subgroup. Not surprisingly, then, all ancient peoples, whether literate or not, preferred the living word—which is to say the spoken word. Texts were enormously expensive to produce. Papyrus was expensive, ink was expensive, and scribes were ultra-expensive. No wonder Jesus said to his audiences, “Let those who have ears listen.” He never said, “Let those who have eyes read.” Most eyes could not read in the biblical period.

So far as we can tell, few if any documents in antiquity were read silently, and only some were intended for private reading. Texts were meant to be read aloud, usually to a group. For the most part texts were necessary stand-ins for oral communication. This was particularly true of ancient letters.

In fact, most ancient documents, including letters, were not really texts in the modern sense at all. They were composed with their aural and oral potential in mind, and they were meant to be orally delivered when they arrived at their destination. Thus, for example, when we read the opening verses of Ephesians—loaded as they are with aural devices (assonance, alliteration, rhythm, rhyme, various rhetorical devices)—it becomes clear that no one was ever meant to hear this in any language but Greek, and it was not meant to be read silently. It needed to be heard.

There was a further reason it needed to be delivered orally—in part because of the cost of making documents, a standard letter in Greek would have no separation of words, sentences, paragraphs, or the like, little or no punctuation, and all capital letters. For example, imagine having to sort out a document that began as follows: PAULASERVANTOFCHRISTJESUSCALLEDTOBEANAPOSTLEANDSETAPARTFORTHEGOSPELOFGOD. The only way to decipher such a collection of letters was to sound them out.

There was a moment of silence. Then Joanna smiled and said, “I will make a start. Let me tell you the story of the Canaanite woman. Jesus told it to Miryam and me when he returned from Tyre. The story goes like this.” She began:

Jesus withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon. A Canaanite woman from that vicinity came to him, crying out, “Lord, Son of David, have mercy on me! My daughter is suffering terribly from demon possession.”

Jesus did not answer a word. So his disciples came to him and urged him, “Send her away, for she keeps crying out after us.” He answered, “I was only sent to the lost sheep of Israel.”

The woman came and knelt before him. “Lord, help me!” she said. He replied, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to their dogs.” “Yes, Lord,” she said, “but even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.”

Then Jesus answered, “Woman, you have great faith! Your request is granted.” And her daughter was healed from that very hour.

“That’s very interesting,” said Levi. “There is a very similar story in Mark’s account—only in Mark’s version, the woman is called a Syro-Phoenician woman.”

“Well, of course,” replied Joanna. “That is what the residents in Roma would call such a woman. Syrian Phoenicians live in Syria, and Labo-Phoenicians live on the north coast of the land west of Egypt. I expect Mark wanted to write in a way his Roman audience could understand.”

“Hmm,” said Levi. “Mark’s version also doesn’t have anything about the male disciples. Other places, to be sure, Mark seems perfectly willing to show the flaws of the Twelve. But here he spares them the embarrassment that apparently was part of the story.” There was a moment of quiet as they all pondered, then Zacchaeus spoke up.

“The thing I find strange is Jesus’ brusque manner. That seems at odds with the way he otherwise treated women,” said Zaccheus.

“Perhaps he was testing the woman to see whether she would respond in faith, as he once tested me,” Martha interjected. “And apparently she passed the test—but the male disciples did not. This is why I prefer the oral stories to some written text. Just by reading those words on a scroll, you can’t tell Jesus’ tone of voice or his manner when he spoke. Perhaps Jesus was testing the male disciples to see whether they would have compassion on the woman, as he did. Maybe he was voicing their thoughts, not his own, when he said ‘I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.’”

Scratching his beard, Levi replied, “Perhaps. But you have to admit it is a strange story. Why in the world was Jesus by the city of Tyre in the first place?”

“Perhaps he was weary of all the rejection in Galilee, even in his hometown?” mused Miryam.

The conversation continued as they took turns recalling their memories of Jesus and his teachings. The discussion served to prevent them all from thinking about how Jericho, where they all now sat together, once Israel’s ancient entry point into the promised land, was now an exit point for these people of God on their way into exile, following the destruction the Master they spoke of had foretold.